Fated
by dshh
Summary: Picks up where 108 left off. Mary/Francis with brotherly Bash. No MB in this fic
1. Chapter 1

**Fated**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

**Summary:** Picks up in the aftermath of 108. Mary, Francis with a side of Brotherly Bash

**Author's Note:** This is only my second fic for this show. I hope you guys like it. I'll try to update ASAP

Francis was out of breath as he tried to reach her, but he was too late. He could see her riding off in the distance. In that moment, every fear seemed to have come to fruition. Francis found himself dropping to his knees in agony. He'd opened his heart and in one fell swoop she was gone. A part of him was angry, but mostly he was just broken. He didn't understand.

_What did I do? Did I wait too long to open my heart?_

Catherine DeMici watched from above with sadness as she witnessed her son's heartbreak. It was what she had feared, but more than that she wanted him alive, even if the cost was Francis's broken heart. He'd get over it. Find another woman to love, but he needed to love. She wished that his fate could be different for she could not have picked a better bride for him and for him to love her as well was a gift. But, they were doomed and she was a mother first and as much as she ached to see her son have love, she wanted to see him live a long life more.

Eventually, Francis picked himself up and went back to his chambers. He wandered around the room and every inch reminded him of Mary.

_I am yours and you are mine. _

_I would die for you._

_Just remember no matter what happens I love you._

He remembered how her demeanor changed just before Aylee was found dead. He suspected that Nostradamus had something to do with what had transpired. Francis went straight to the medicine man's quarters. He bowed and said, "My Lord."

"Tell me what you told her. I know you are the reason Mary has left."

"She did what she could to change fate."

Francis grabbed the man by the collar in a fury. "Stop speaking in riddles man and tell me what you told her."

"I told her what I saw."

"What did you see!"

"Your death and your union would be the cause," Nostradamus said.

Francis released the man and prepared to leave. He was so upset that she'd given up on everything they could have over the delusions of a strange man. He had never trusted the man and thought his mother odd for keeping his counsel. Francis was determined to find her and bring her back. He refused to let her go. His mother came in as he prepared a sack with the essentials. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm bringing her back, mother."

Catherine grabbed on to his arms in attempt to stop him from leaving. "Don't go. This is a mistake. She will be your ruin."

"You actually believe the rubbish that man speaks. Don't you get it? I'd rather be dead than to live without her."

Francis finished packing his things and went to the stables. He prepared his horse and rode off through the dark of night to find his love.

* * *

Mary and Bash had decided to put up camp deep in the wood. She sat on the blanket that he had laid out for her and looked about. Bash didn't what to say, but there really was the best time to talk about her running away. "Why were you running?"

"I needed to get away. I needed to save him."

"So, you sacrificed your alliance to save Francis? From what?"

"Death."

Bash looked at her quizzically. "Tell me."

"Nostradamus had a premonition that our marriage would be the cause of his death and after what happened with Aylee, I just couldn't let it happen."

"So you ran."

"Yes."

She lay back and tried to get some sleep, but she was simply flooded with memories of her time at court with Francis. They were so happy for such a short time. What she would do to have more time with him, but not at the cost of his life. His life mattered more to her than duty. She didn't know where she was running to or what she'd do. Maybe she could go to a foreign land and pose as a commoner. For she could not return to court nor could she go back to Scotland after shirking her duty.

_If I was a boy, just Francis and you were just a girl Mary, I'd tell you that I was yours, Only yours. _

_I'll pressure you, and listen to you, and argue with you, and love you till the day that I die_

A single tear streamed down her face and all she wanted to do was go back to him, but she knew that wasn't possible. Her heart was breaking and there was absolutely nothing she could do to mend it. She barely slept all night and when morning came, Bash handed her a cup of coffee.

"Drink this. After we eat, we're going back."

"What?No, Bash! I can't."

"You can and you will. This is ridiculous. You aren't just causing yourself undue strife, but you are putting lives on the line. Nostradamus has a spotty record. Fate is what you make it Mary. You have choices that are not available to some of us. Don't let fear rule your heart."

"If you won't come with me, I'll go on my own. But, I am not returning to court."

"You're being ridiculous. Do you know how dangerous it is for a woman out in the wood alone nevertheless a nobelwoman?"

Mary gritted her teeth. She knew he was right, but she hated being told what to do. "I'm not going with you."

She was going home to Scotland and if she had to risk the dangers of being a woman travelling alone, she would.

"If you think I'm letting you go off alone you are crazy."

Bash would find a way to send word for his brother.

* * *

Francis rode all night. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he had feeling he knew where Mary was headed. If he knew her, she would head to Calais where she'd take a boat back to Scotland. One thing he knew of his Mary is that she'd never abandon her duty as Queen even if she wasn't thinking. By the time it was nightfall, he felt like he'd never reach Mary and the thought made him filled with a feeling of despair. He put up camp and did a small prayer that he'd find her soon. Living her life because of a prophecy was ridiculous. He had fallen asleep with thoughts of being with Mary once again when the sounds of screams coming from the wood woke him. He got up and reached for his weapon and headed towards the noise when he heard whispers and saw Mary and Bash tied together in front of a fire. Francis did the only thing he knew he could he quickly untied them with his sword and attacked one of the men as Bash fought off the others. Mary stood there frightened that something would happen to Francis so she jumped on the man who was about to come up behind him. Francis turned and slit his throat. Once the battle was over and the three of them had a chance to catch their breath Mary finally had the opportunity to ask Francis what he was doing there.

"I came for you. I know about the prophecy. Come back with me Mary."

Mary bit her lip and steeled herself to hurt him once again. "I can't. I won't."

Francis reached for her, his hand gently grazy her face. "Don't let this stupid prophecy change what is right for us, for what is right for our countries."

"I care more for your life. I can find another alliance for Scotland."

"My life isn't worth living if you're not in it,"he pleaded.

Bash coughed and said, "For godsakes listen to the man he's begging."

Mary shook her head, turned and got on her horse and road away. Bash looked at his brother and said, "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing,"Francis said as he mounted his horse and followed Mary .


	2. Chapter 2

**Fated**

**Author's Note:** There is no romantic Bash/Mary. But, I don't hate him so he's being the good big brother in this story. I know this is angsty. As for longer chapters, I'm not very good at that. The chapters will probably get progressively longer.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Many thoughts run through Francis's mind as he clicks heel against the side of his horse. He can see her in the distance. His heart breaks a little when she turns and to look at him only to increase her speed. She's slipping from his fingers and he can feel his heart constricting. Francis goes over what he could have done differently; what he could have said to convince her to stay. He understands that it's her love for him that makes her run, but he just wants to shake her until she comes to her senses. He urges his horse to go faster. Francis needs to catch her. "Just go back to the Castle, Francis," she yells.

"If you insist on being stubborn, then I insist on coming with you."

Mary pulls on the reigns and clicks her heel. She needs to go faster. The further away she is from her, the easier it will be. Letting him go is not a question, it's a must. She doing this to save his life and he doesn't or won't understand that she needs to do this. Francis pulls up to her and she instinctively tugs on the reigns. She must have tugged a little too hard because in an instant she could feel herself being thrown off the animal and the horse ran off as Francis kneels before her checking to see if there is any blood.

"Oh Mary. If anything had happened to you…"

She looks up at him softly as he cradles her head. "My horse."

"Who cares about the silly creature? I just care that you are safe. What if I wasn't here? What would you have done?"

"I'd gotten up, wiped the dirt off me and walked until I found some shelter," Mary said with a stubborn lift to her chin. She knows that she needs to put a cold wall against her heart and push him away, but she can't. The way he looks at her with such caring tugs at her heart. Mary reaches for him and places her hand on his cheek

_I love you _

Mary closes her eyes and she can feel his breath on her in the moments before he captures her lips. The tender feel of his mouth on her stirs emotions in her that she wished she could push away. She sighs when he pulls away. "Come home with me," he begs.

"I, I can't."

"Then, I'm coming with you. Whether you come willingly or not you know that our marriage is inevitable. I don't want us to happen due to force, but because it's what we both want. Ignore that witch doctors false claims and allow yourself the happiness that is so rare for those of our station."

Mary pulls his face to hers and kisses him like it's the last taste of him that she will ever have. She cares little if someone were to come upon them. All she cares is this moment that she knows she will cherish for years to come. Francis assumes that the kiss is her agreeing to come willingly. Mary is pulling on his clothes and he pulls the strap of her dress down so that her breasts are exposed. He knows the risk of being together out in the open, but he cares little for propriety in that moment. Mary tilts her head back as he suckles on her breasts. She pushes up on her heel and drags her hand through his blonde girl as a small moan escapes her lips. Mary wants more of him and she drags her hand down to his crotch to let him know exactly what she desires. "I want all of you,"she whispers huskily.

"Brazen minsk,"Francis chuckles as he lifts her so that she's straddling his lap. He undoes his britches and enters her. She feels so good that he lets out a groan. Mary is tugging on his curls as she rides the waves of their passion. His lips are drawn to her bosom and in moments he has her screaming his name. It's freeing and impetuous that they are free to express their love without the fear of being heard or gossiping servants to report their every move. Out here amongst nature, they are allowing their wildest nature free. "Mary," he groans as he reaches his peak.

Afterwards, they lie on the grass with his arm around her and he whispers I love you and Mary wants to cry. She waits for him to fall asleep before slipping free of his embrace. She is sitting on his horse staring back at him when he opens his eyes. She pulls on the reigns and is gone.

Francis puts his hands in his face. She's left him again and he fears his heart will never be the same.

Mary is in Calais when Henry's troops find him and take her back to the Castle. She will marry Francis in a fortnight. She still fears what will happen to him, but knows there is nothing she can do to stop. So, she hopes that maybe Nostradamus's vision is wrong. When she first lays eyes on Francis, he's a mess. His eyes are red and he looks right through her.

He's angry and she holds back the tears that threaten to pour out. She reaches for him. "Francis, I'm sorry."

"I know. You're sorry they found you," he says as he turns away. He no longer believes she loves him, but rather that she clung to the first excuse to run from him.

Mary is sitting on a large boulder playing with the pebbles when Bash finds her. "So, the prodigal daughter returns."

She glares at him.

"You've broken him. You can't be surprised he's angry."

She throws a pebble his way. "I know, but I was trying to protect him."

"People have been stifling him all his life in the name of protecting Francis. What he needs is love."

Mary sighs and she knows he is right. She does love him, but she fears it may too late to win him over; to make him believe in her love for him.

The next day, she seeks him out in the blade room where he's been working on his latest sword. He looks up at her and says, "Mary."

"Francis. I was wondering if you'd like to go for a walk."

He looks at her and wonders what exactly she wants. Francis is determined to keep his distance. He's beginning to see the wisdom in his father's words. Maybe there really was no room for the heart in affairs of state.

"No, I'd rather not," he responds.

"Is this how it's going to be? I hate the icy chill that lays between us Francis."

He looks at her and matter-of-factly says, "This is your doing. I offered you my love and you chose your superstitions. A rather convenient excuse if I may say so."

"Is that what you believe? I love you Francis and I was doing what I felt would protect you. I put you before my country. Can't you understand that?"

Francis wanted to believe her words, but the last time he opened his heart to her she had left him not once, but twice. His heart could not handle loving her and losing her again. "I want to believe your words."

Mary reaches for him. She holds his face in her hands, but the steely look in his eyes tell her that it will take more than sweet words to get her Francis back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Fated chapter 3**

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the long delay. This is the last chapter. This story was originally designed as a one-shot so it's taken time to map out where I wanted it to go. I started this fic after ep 8 aired with no knowledge of spoilers. I'll prob have another one-shot based on what happens in 109.

* * *

Francis sat in his sword room day upon day making an array of daggers and he'd just begun working on his third sword. It had been a week since he'd last spoken to Mary. The very site of her caused him unmistakable pain. He kept going through the events of the past months in his head over and over again. His harsh words to her, her kissing his brother, her leaving him not once but twice only to be dragged back to the castle against her will. Then when Aylee's death turned out to be the workings of a mad woman that roamed the Castle and not because of a prophecy, Mary was ready to be with him again. But, how could he trust in her love; trust in her. If a prophecy could make her leave him then what would happen when those at court did their best to get in their way. The alliance was set in stone; He would wed Mary in three days. But, Francis was unsure if he ever wanted to see her again.

His father was right there was no room for love for monarchs. He wished he had the ability to set aside his heart and just govern, but Francis was not like his father. He was kinder and softer and he led with his heart whether he wanted to or not. Francis could feel the fatigue wearing him down. It had been a fortnight since he'd last slept through the night. He spent his days in the sword room and his nights by the lake or wandering the castle grounds. The servants had taken to calling him the ghost of Chateau de Foutainbleu.

Francis puts down his blade when he hears someone knocking on the door. He ignores it and he sees her walk through the threshold.

"Francis, this has got to stop,"Mary insists.

He looked up at her and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. She moved towards him and he couldn't keep his gaze off of her. His eyes wandered to her full bosom and down to her tapered waist, taken in by the corset, and her skirts swayed as she got closer to him. He was hungry; famished for affection, for her touch. She touches his face and frowns. "You are a mess, Francis."

"Je déteste que je l'ai fait pour vous. Vous êtes mon cœur,"she whispers into his ear.

"Vous me consumer,"he whispers back. He wraps his hands around her waist and pulls her towards him. Francis has a weakness for when she speaks to him in French. Her accent is rough and still contains that Scottish lilt that makes his insides quiver. It's the effort she makes in speaking to him in his native tongue that hits him where he is weakest: his heart. All he wants to do is have all of her. He misses the feel of her soft skin, the sultry sound of her voice as he carries to the heights of ecstasy. Francis wants to push her away, but his body is weak and his need for her outweigh any lingering anger he feels. He's lost without her and she knows it.

"Shh,"she whispers as she runs her fingers through his silken blond curls. Mary loves the way it feels between her fingers. So silky smooth and bright like a ray of sunshine. He looks up at her before capturing her lips with his own. But, they aren't tender. There is a roughness to his touch that catches her off-guard. He's like a starved man. Francis lifts her up and carries her over to one of the empty tables and sets her down. He inches her skirt up and uses his other hand to spread her legs apart. He wants her, but there is an anger simmering under the surface. He pulls his hands away abruptly like her touch burns him. She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"

"You left me. Twice."

"I was trying to save you; save your life,"Mary says as tears fall down her face. The tears are what broke him. He closed the distance between them and wiped the tears from her face. He hated what he was doing to them? Questioning himself, questioning her and above all questioning their love.

He wants to tell her not to cry, but all he wants is to hold her. Francis wraps his arms around her and lets the scent of her overwhelm his senses.

_Is the pull so strong? Yes, yes it is_.

He knows what his heart wants and Francis understands her desire to protect him, but the sting of betrayal still weighs heavily on his chest. But, the pull he feels towards her is stronger than anything. They will marry and he could make this torturous or he could just to forgive and enjoy a happy marriage. He hasn't made up his mind. Francis runs a finger along her jaw and watches her as she stares into his eyes. There's love in it. She wants forgiveness, but he also knows she is headstrong and if he pulls away from her, he will lose her for good.

"Can you forgive me?"Mary asks. "I'm not going to beg for it."

Francis kisses her softly and says, "I can try."

The next few days, keeps them apart because of the intensity of the preparations for the wedding. Francis must be fitted for his wedding wardrobe and consummation clothing. The consummation was bound to be a bit tricky since they'd already been intimate. He felt a little giddy at the idea of the day. The darkness and fear in his heart was slowly lifting. He knew that no matter the struggle, he would always love her. The day they had been waiting for since they were six years old, had finally arrived. Would it be a happy union or would his heart constantly fear losing her. She made him feel too much and leaving her was something he couldn't imagine himself doing if he were to fully commit to her. But, Mary was another matter. She was a practical girl. She was more than capable of doing what she had to do. A distressed Mary came bargaining into his chambers, interrupting his wayward thoughts.

"The consummation Francis. I'll be ruined."

"You will not. We are marrying to day. It matters little,"he said as he finished buttoning his shirt. She smiled at him. "You look handsome."

"And you are in your housecoat,"Francis replied.

"But, what about the inspection"

"I bribed the nun who is to perform the inspection. Don't worry,"he said as he clasped her hands.

Mary smiled. He was reaching out to her, but she still felt a distance between them. One she knows she has caused, but she had a lifetime to show him, to prove to him that her love was real.

"Shh quiet those thoughts,"he said. "I've forgiven you."

Francis moved across the room and locked the chamber doors. He slowly removed his wedding clothes and walked towards her. "What do you say of consummating or wedding day?"

"But, what about the servants."

"Who cares?"Francis says.


End file.
